April 22nd, 2010
No one achieves frivolity straight off. It is a privilege and an art; it is the pursuit of the superficial by those who, having discerned the impossibility fo certitude, have conceived a disgust for such things.
E.M.Cioran
Classifieds
For sale: turtle/dove cross. very affectionate. answers to the name Shelldon [sic]. comes with own terrarium/cote. $100. Box 90.
Sublet: scientist's laboratory. I am forced to spend the summer away at an institute and so my lab is open for three (or so) months. Located in an isolated castle near Treherne. Some difficulties with the neighbours. $500/month negotiable. Box 3398.
The Mystery of the Lost Lenore
Listen to Part Fify-Three
Click on the picture. (3:19)
Archives
Links
persiflagemag@hotmail.com
Everybody I Know
Has At Least One Thing Wrong With Them That They Don't Know About
I had thought about listing them here. You know, as a kind of public service or personal favour to my friends I would write out a list of their names and next to each name I would write their particular glaring error in such a way that it would be, finally and completely clear to them why they had been making such a mess of their lives up to this point.
But then I thought about it and I realised that my friends would not take it in the spirit it was intended. I thought about it some more and I came to the conclusion that they would probably band together and set my car on fire. Again.
I have on my desk before me (in front of me I mean)a notice from the City of Winnipeg Fire Department stating that if they are forced to put out a fire in my car again they will give me a pink belly that will stay pink.
I don't think I like people.
Hugh Briss
Mister Backyard
Looks At Life and Death
This week Persiflage's own amateur naturalist, Mister Backyard, takes a good long look at some dead things and reports back.
If you were to go outside right now, once you have finished reading this of course, and wander out into some grassy area, like a field or a park or even a boulevard or traffic meridian, and you were to get down on all fours and look, really look, at the earth beneath you, you would notice, almost immediately, a very significant and wondrous thing.
Jumbled together with no distinction whatsoever are many, many dead things and living material. That's right, out in Mother Nature Death is not separated out into graveyards, mausoleums and such like.
Dead matter, whether it be leaves, or grass or twigs or insects or birds or marmosets, remains wherever it fell or wherever the wind blew it after it fell (with the possible exception of the previously mentioned marmosets unless the winds are very strong in your area).
In the Natural World, Death and Life are roommates. Share and share alike is their motto and they co-exist in perfect harmony. You see all that dead stuff is what makes the live stuff possible!
Yes, the brown curled leaves, the dried out twigs, the beige, almost white coarse grass, the little bits of Mister Squirrel left over from his unsuccessful dispute with Mister Dog, they all combine together, over time, to feed and nourish the fresh green shoots of grass, the soft little buds on the young evergreens, they comprise the bulk of the vomited Happy meals of tiny fledglings and the mighty repasts for Mister Maggot and Mrs Worm.
Out and about in the great lush Natural World, Death provides unlimited nutritious and delicious banquets for the Living. And they could hardly be handier!
So next time you are out on one of your Nature strolls and you espy something putrid and rotting just remember - that is someone's picnic!